It comes from the mouth of a pleasant-looking, handsome blond in an equally handsome white suit. His smile is wide, bright; despite the weird curly eyebrow and the hair hiding half his face, he's radiant. Your heart is pounding. He holds a cigarette in his teeth, grins around it like it's barely there. You feel wonderful and terrible - wonderful that he's smiling at you, that he's such a gentle soul, so sweet, and just having him speak to you feels like a gift, but your stomach twists. Why is he so nice? Why?
"I had so much fun being with you, but I have to say goodbye soon. Thanks for everything!"
He holds out his hand - a gesture of such openness, such kindness, an offer of a friendly farewell, and your heart stutters in your chest. Why? Why? And why is his smile only brighter now? You were cruel to him. You hurt him, and you intended to hurt him even more than you actually have.
I wanna apologize. I wanna apologize!
It repeats in your head like a mantra as you walk closer. You want nothing more than to take his hand and tell him you're sorry, so sorry, for all the things you've done to hurt him.
"Shut the fuck up, why don't you!?"
But that's what comes out of your mouth instead.
Your skin stings as you clap your hands over your face, over your mouth. Your vision whirls as you spin, turning away because oh god you can't even look at him after that, you did it again you did it again, why can't you ever say kind things when you mean them?
He laughs.
It's pleasant, kind as the rest of him, and your heart clenches.
"You're right, we're enemies! To you, our marriage was just a trap. The whole thing was staged by the Big Mom Pirates."
He talks like this is just another Tuesday. A funny story to tell later, not a horrible ordeal you put him through, and, cautiously, you open your eyes, turn to look at him over your shoulder.
Your vision blurs, tears burning, stinging your eyes; your lips curl away from your teeth in a grimace, painful, jaw clenching, teeth gritting, nose starting to run as your whole face screws up. Tears pour down your face, your shoulders start to shake, and god you're suddenly crying so hard there's even drool dripping from the corners of your mouth and you can't stop.
"Oh, I mean - ! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to insult you!"
No no no no that's not it! You shake your head, scrubbing at your face, trying so hard to will your tears to stop. But your heart hurts, and they won't stop, because he's so nice and you don't know how, how how how anyone exists that is so nice and so real about it and you don't deserve it, you know you don't, not even a little!
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean that, Pudding-chan!"
Stop stop stop apologizing you're so nice you didn't do anything wrong you've never done anything wrong to me ever!
"H-hey, Sanji -"
Your voice is so rough in your throat, sounds bitter and snide, and you swallow before adding a politer, sweeter-sounding, "-san..."
He stops apologizing, waits for you as you turn, seeing the concern and care in his face even through your tears.
"C-can you do me a favor?" Your voice breaks. "Just one, for the last time... I wanna ask you a favor!"
He says nothing, just waits, just waits for whatever, even after all the terrible shit you've done when his guard is down, and your heart twists and thunders.
Before you can stop yourself, you turn, feeling the tears streaming sideways along your face with the speed of your motions, and you pluck the cigarette from his lips. He lets you, mouth slack, totally nonplussed. It's cute. You don't know what to do with the cigarette, so you just let it fall. Throw your arms around his waist, and lean up, on your tiptoes...
He's startled. Barely moves. That's okay. You barely know what you're doing anyway. Just a simple kiss, lips to lips, no movement except your arms tightening around his waist, because you don't want to let go. Know that when you do...
When you pull back, he's just as slack, just as befuddled, but god, he's wearing the stupidest grin.
You wish so badly you could keep this - all of this - instead of just...
"Thank you." Everything hurts. And nothing is okay except for his ridiculously bright face. "Goodbye..."
Your fingers plunge into the side of his head. It's soft and gooey under your touch, like flan, and your whole hand sinks in to the wrist, searching... Closes on the plasticky end of something flat, and you pull. The end of a roll of film whirls out of his head, his perspective of the same kiss, too fast for you to look because you don't want to, not right now, not yet, when you know he thinks you're pretty when you feel so ugly...
You pull until you see the back of yourself, use your free hand to slip a pair of scissors from your pocket that weren't there a moment before, and snip. The rest of the roll winds back into his head like you've snapped the end of a window shade, and you turn and run before it can finish.
Dimly, as your feet pound on the cobbles in dark alleyways, you hear behind you:
"Pudding-chan...? You said you wanted to ask me a favor? ...What is it...?"
You run. You run so he can't catch you, won't follow you, so he'll go away and follow his plan and be safe. Your lungs burn. Your feet ache. Your heart clenches so badly you think you'll die.
"Who goes there?!"
What - ? A soldier, here? Why?
A gunshot rings through the air. Your heart stops aching, because all that's there instead is a flash of heat, then cold. You don't wonder why, or wonder anything else, as all your thoughts go blank. The buildings whirl around you as you fall, then faster as your eyes roll up. And then everything is dark.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Death
It comes from the mouth of a pleasant-looking, handsome blond in an equally handsome white suit. His smile is wide, bright; despite the weird curly eyebrow and the hair hiding half his face, he's radiant. Your heart is pounding. He holds a cigarette in his teeth, grins around it like it's barely there. You feel wonderful and terrible - wonderful that he's smiling at you, that he's such a gentle soul, so sweet, and just having him speak to you feels like a gift, but your stomach twists. Why is he so nice? Why?
"I had so much fun being with you, but I have to say goodbye soon. Thanks for everything!"
He holds out his hand - a gesture of such openness, such kindness, an offer of a friendly farewell, and your heart stutters in your chest. Why? Why? And why is his smile only brighter now? You were cruel to him. You hurt him, and you intended to hurt him even more than you actually have.
I wanna apologize. I wanna apologize!
It repeats in your head like a mantra as you walk closer. You want nothing more than to take his hand and tell him you're sorry, so sorry, for all the things you've done to hurt him.
"Shut the fuck up, why don't you!?"
But that's what comes out of your mouth instead.
Your skin stings as you clap your hands over your face, over your mouth. Your vision whirls as you spin, turning away because oh god you can't even look at him after that, you did it again you did it again, why can't you ever say kind things when you mean them?
He laughs.
It's pleasant, kind as the rest of him, and your heart clenches.
"You're right, we're enemies! To you, our marriage was just a trap. The whole thing was staged by the Big Mom Pirates."
He talks like this is just another Tuesday. A funny story to tell later, not a horrible ordeal you put him through, and, cautiously, you open your eyes, turn to look at him over your shoulder.
"But... maybe it was unpleasant for you... but I'm glad that you played my fiancée!"
It feels like your heart just stopped.
Your vision blurs, tears burning, stinging your eyes; your lips curl away from your teeth in a grimace, painful, jaw clenching, teeth gritting, nose starting to run as your whole face screws up. Tears pour down your face, your shoulders start to shake, and god you're suddenly crying so hard there's even drool dripping from the corners of your mouth and you can't stop.
"Oh, I mean - ! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to insult you!"
No no no no that's not it! You shake your head, scrubbing at your face, trying so hard to will your tears to stop. But your heart hurts, and they won't stop, because he's so nice and you don't know how, how how how anyone exists that is so nice and so real about it and you don't deserve it, you know you don't, not even a little!
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean that, Pudding-chan!"
Stop stop stop apologizing you're so nice you didn't do anything wrong you've never done anything wrong to me ever!
"H-hey, Sanji -"
Your voice is so rough in your throat, sounds bitter and snide, and you swallow before adding a politer, sweeter-sounding, "-san..."
He stops apologizing, waits for you as you turn, seeing the concern and care in his face even through your tears.
"C-can you do me a favor?" Your voice breaks. "Just one, for the last time... I wanna ask you a favor!"
He says nothing, just waits, just waits for whatever, even after all the terrible shit you've done when his guard is down, and your heart twists and thunders.
Before you can stop yourself, you turn, feeling the tears streaming sideways along your face with the speed of your motions, and you pluck the cigarette from his lips. He lets you, mouth slack, totally nonplussed. It's cute. You don't know what to do with the cigarette, so you just let it fall. Throw your arms around his waist, and lean up, on your tiptoes...
He's startled. Barely moves. That's okay. You barely know what you're doing anyway. Just a simple kiss, lips to lips, no movement except your arms tightening around his waist, because you don't want to let go. Know that when you do...
When you pull back, he's just as slack, just as befuddled, but god, he's wearing the stupidest grin.
You wish so badly you could keep this - all of this - instead of just...
"Thank you." Everything hurts. And nothing is okay except for his ridiculously bright face. "Goodbye..."
Your fingers plunge into the side of his head. It's soft and gooey under your touch, like flan, and your whole hand sinks in to the wrist, searching... Closes on the plasticky end of something flat, and you pull. The end of a roll of film whirls out of his head, his perspective of the same kiss, too fast for you to look because you don't want to, not right now, not yet, when you know he thinks you're pretty when you feel so ugly...
You pull until you see the back of yourself, use your free hand to slip a pair of scissors from your pocket that weren't there a moment before, and snip. The rest of the roll winds back into his head like you've snapped the end of a window shade, and you turn and run before it can finish.
Dimly, as your feet pound on the cobbles in dark alleyways, you hear behind you:
"Pudding-chan...? You said you wanted to ask me a favor? ...What is it...?"
You run. You run so he can't catch you, won't follow you, so he'll go away and follow his plan and be safe. Your lungs burn. Your feet ache. Your heart clenches so badly you think you'll die.
"Who goes there?!"
What - ? A soldier, here? Why?
A gunshot rings through the air. Your heart stops aching, because all that's there instead is a flash of heat, then cold. You don't wonder why, or wonder anything else, as all your thoughts go blank. The buildings whirl around you as you fall, then faster as your eyes roll up. And then everything is dark.